Her Children
by Arathe
Summary: They pressed around her and she welcomed the contact; they sang in her thoughts and she welcomed their voices. They were hers, her children, and their love was unconditional; their obedience absolute.


**::Her Children::**

The base was nestled in a lush valley, no more than a handful of buildings clustered loosely amid the greenery and connected by a thin lattice of roads. The setting sun painted the scene in hues of fire, and it was all so ironically idyllic it made her ill. It was, Kerrigan mused, such a very _terran _deception. Glossy, so placid and perfect that one would never guess at the rot within. At the horror and cruelty and filth beneath that lovely veneer.

That was perhaps the very definition of humanity. Deceit. To be terran was to live and breathe lies, to weave each individual's falsehoods into the grand tapestry of human bullshit. There was no true solidarity; no real loyalty. Just billions of selfish bastards faking in tandem. She snorted at the thought, one eye towards the steadily sinking sun.

Terrans might decry the zerg, but there was a sense of unity in the swarm that they could never comprehend. A solidarity of purpose -her purpose- that made them so much more than the scattered and squabbling terrans could ever aspire to. If there was one thing in this grand charade she regretted truly, it was that so much of her human nature remained. That human fallibility was the only barrier between her and perfection of being. What she had gained as the Queen of Blades so far outweighed what she had lost, and yet she could not quite take that final step away from the past.

A scream cut through her thoughts like cold steel, and another, the collective wail of a thousand voices full of _ragepainhatefear. _

_I'm coming, _she crooned. _Soon, soon._

The cacophony faded to a moan, her children trapped within the so-pretty cage in the valley soothed by her voice. She watched the movement in the base below with cold disdain. Perhaps the researchers believed they had some way to silence their voices, but more likely they simply assumed she would not bother herself with the rescue of such a small number of her brood.

She hated them. Every stupid, arrogant, blind one of them. She would crush them, these hateful sheep that fancied themselves wolves. Before she was done, Kerrigan would see every last one of them ground beneath her heel. They would pay for their sins, and the price would be steep indeed.

The sun set slowly, golden glow giving way to shadow and pinpricks of light; the valley transforming into a sea of false stars. Movement ceased and Kerrigan smiled sharply. It was time to show those arrogant sheep what a real predator looked like.

_Rise._

The earth shuddered and heaved beneath her feet as her brood surged from their warrens beneath the ground, a wave of heat and sound flowing around her. They pressed around her and she welcomed the contact; they sang in her thoughts and she welcomed their voices. They were _hers, _her children, and their love was unconditional; their obedience absolute.

She bade them attack and the swarm moved as one, flowing over the ridge and down into the valley; the clicking of claws and the rush of wings the only herald of their advance. The screams and gunfire were distant, almost dreamlike.

Their ferocious joy was hers, and if she closed her eyes she could almost feel flesh beneath her claws and taste blood on her lips. The terran forces were no match for her brood, and the battle was over before it really began. The swarm returned, those newly freed among their number, and Kerrigan knew with savage certainty that no one had survived her assault.

A single zergling topped the rise before the others, scuttling across the rocky terrain to her side and looping excitedly around her legs. Its animated chatter was loud in her thoughts, and it dropped something at her feet, sitting back and trilling happily.

Amused, Kerrigan retrieved the macabre prize; a blood drenched hand torn from the arm of some unfortunate victim. The zerglings in particular seemed fond of bringing her trophies, and she caressed its head in thanks. It gave her a savage sort of satisfaction, this evidence of the massacre she had wrought.

Kerrigan summoned the swarm to her and turned her back on the wreckage of the valley. This was only the beginning, a small step on the path to Hell she meant to carve. She was the Queen of Blades, and when her crusade was through there would be none left to fear the name.


End file.
